A Never-ending Math Equation

 

All the light is in the leaves,

Yellow and crimson

In the trees and blanketing

The ground, these city streets.

 

This morning, fog

Like something from a dream

I run through it all

See no one

 

And no one sees me.

I am willing to believe

This fog, these leaves,

This feeling, hallowed.

 

One more hill to climb

Two squirrels chase

Three birds sing, this is how

the world begins.